Released on November 17, The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes welcomes fans back to the merciless world of Panem for a refreshing new perspective on the fictional survival competition. Based on Author Suzanne Collins’ novel of the same name, the movie is set during the tenth Hunger Games, when a young Coriolanus Snow mentors and develops feelings for Lucy Gray, the female District 12 tribute he is put in charge of, as per film database IMDb (imdb.com). Snow, known to viewers as his elder self, the villainous, tyrannical Panem president, is here seen as a sharp up-and-comer looking to correct the image of his crumbling lineage despite his differences with the Capitol.

With The Hunger Games being a staple of pop culture’s young-adult dystopian novel craze a decade ago, the story’s place in an ever-shifting creative environment may initially appear outdated. However, Songbirds and Snakes injects new life into this cinematic universe, continuing the saga’s previous exploration of the intersections between the societal thirst for spectacle and humanity’s most violent instincts.

Having helmed all but the first film in the saga, Director Francis Lawrence further masters the games’ action sequences and thematic implications. The fights in the arena are often intercut with the strategizing of Snow and his fellow Capitol pupils from the comfort of their chairs and screens — each with the resources to potentially alter the fate of their tributes — further accentuating the disparities and privileges allowing one youth to dictate the survival of another. Although made with a slightly slimmer budget than Lawrence’s previous outings, Songbirds and Snakes stands out for its more intricate design, with colorful costumes, style-blending sets, and more lens experimenting that evoke a more archaic dystopian setting.

The film is at its most compelling when detailing the ways in which Panem’s many oppressive regimes have made way for leaders like Snow to emerge. Despite his shades of rebellion and occasional opposition to the Capitol’s decisions, Snow provides the blueprint for the games’ survival, giving the gamemasters a report on the commercial and logistical changes that may allow the competition to increase in viewership and quality. Lucy Gray may reciprocate Snow’s advances, yet the extent to which his emotions are influenced by his need to produce a victor are left up for interpretation and are further questioned as we continue to see his ability to betray those in his way.

Looking to cover a lot of ground, the film unfortunately finds itself in a rush, cutting many of the novel’s character
dynamics in the process. Characters such as Sejanus’ mother and Pluribus Bell, key to Snow’s demeanor, are nowhere to be found. Similarly, plenty of the book’s symbolism is reduced to quick verbal references. The need to synthesize the text is understood, yet certain nuance is lost in translation. With the film’s first two thirds greatly succeeding at walking the tightrope between entertainment and character development, the final act’s narrative turns and conclusion may not quite reach the same heights. “It gave insight on the rest of the storyline,” said Junior Annabelle Barth.

Albeit dinged by its necessity to tidy up storyline technicalities and leave room for future chapters, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes succeeds at contextualizing and reflecting the creation of a despotic leader, allowing for enough ambiguity for conversation to ensue. Ratcheting up the tension, brutality, and craft experimentation, this is one of the strongest films in the Hunger Games franchise.